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Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note

Rating: 4.5

Lately, I've become accustomed to the way
The ground opens up and envelopes me
Each time I go out to walk the dog.
Or the broad edged silly music the wind
Makes when I run for a bus...

Things have come to that.

And now, each night I count the stars.
And each night I get the same number.

And when they will not come to be counted,
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And then last night I tiptoed up To my daughter's room and heard her Talking to someone, and when I opened The door, there was no one there... Only she on her knees, peeking into Her own clasped hands Loved this stanza filled with great poetic skills. Thanks for sharing it. 10 for it. Subhas

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7/20/2021 8:58:41 AM # 1.0.0.663